Seraphic
by RikaFurude13
Summary: Magic runs in the veins of all Angels and Demons, making them far superior than humans, yet they coexist. Nowadays every single one of these mystic creatures is rich, far more successful in the game of life. But one common girl has magic: Haruhi Fujioka- and her world is vastly different.
1. Chapter 1

_**Summary**__: Magic runs in the veins of all Angels and Demons, making them far superior than humans, yet they coexist. Nowadays every single one of these mystic creatures is rich, far more successful in the game of life. But one common girl has magic: Haruhi Fujioka._

Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club.

Author's Note: Hey, it's RikaFurude13. This story was put up for adoption recently, and this magnificent writer has given me full permission to continue it for her. This entire idea was brought into being by rayningnight, and, as such, the credit for the concept goes to her. I will try my best to stay true to her writing style and original concept; though I can guarantee you that this story, now that it has been graciously bestowed onto me, will have a few twists and turns that you all may not expect. I sincerely hope you all like what I have in mind, eventually.

Also, please let it be known that rayningnight may return to this story, so I am not a permanent writer for this, by any means. Nevertheless, I hope you sit back and enjoy. Or maybe not… since readers who cannot think about the story aren't really reading it at all…. *cackle*

Anywho, this brings us to the end of this long author's note. I do sincerely hope I stay true to the original concept, and that all of you enjoy! (Especially you, rayningnight, considering it's your story too)

Also, I would like to note that this story has undergone a few changes in the premier chapters (i.e. chapters one and two), namely, I just added a few sentences here and there to set the framework for the concepts I will be introducing when I start to take this story over fully in Chapter 3.

~RikaFurude13

_**Chapter 1: Enter the Bane of my Existence**_

_Everyone_ in The Fourth Reading Room was talking, whispering or gossiping, eating, drinking or even – _I don't even _want_ to know why_ – … dancing.

_By the Angel, why were there even books in the damn room if no one would read them?_ I thought bitterly. It seemed as though these wealthy magic-users even disregarded the standard rules of no food or drink in the library. Being quite fond of libraries myself, I was slightly put off by the blatant disregard for the room's original use.

A couple of girls were even _twirling _around in their overly-puffy, banana-yellow uniforms, giggling non-stop as their meaningless chatter raced across the already boisterous room. There was no conceivable way I could study in the least, not with all of this din.

One schoolgirl made the mistake to skip, and snagged her foot on practically thin air. She stumbled before a dark-haired boy when he'd just rounded the table, and she began toppling over into his direction clumsily as her laughter faded into a shriek. It looked like they'd have both fallen from my viewpoint, but the boy smoothly re-balanced the girl with quick motion, dropping his hardcover book in mid-stride.

"Be careful," he muttered, a frown creasing his coppery skin. His hands snatched back a book labeled _Basic Shadow Techniques Volume: IV _from the floor and he left the flushing girl with suspiciously swift nonchalance.

"Oh Naka-chan, you're _blushing~! _Don't tell me you're into that Dark Angel?" one girl teased, wiggling her pencil-thin eyebrows as her gaze drifted over to her friend's instantly colouring face.

The other girl lowered her head quickly, her auburn hair overshadowing her blushing, rosy expression, "N-no! W-well… maybe…"

I sighed, shutting the pale pink double doors to the drama-fest in The Fourth Reading Room with my head lowered. I was never one to witness such trysts; they were simply too menial for me to process. Call me pessimistic, but pretending to not know if you like someone is even worse than going up to a girl and saying, 'Hey, Himatsu-kun in Class B likes you'.

However, I did not dwell on this fact for much longer. The need to find a good place to study was too great for me to think about the infatuation of my peers. In that respect, rich people and so-called 'commoners' like me were one and the same.

Nevertheless, this had been the thirteenth –_no fourteenth_ – room I've tried, and not one was suitable for my elemental studies, what with all the senseless noise and endless amounts of aggravating adolescents. I closed my eyes in disappointment and irritation before taking my leave for the red-carpeted stairs. I peered down at the steps beneath me as I trudged with detachment, succumbing to futility as the rouge-red velvet was squashed by my brown loafers, and exhaled quietly in a slump.

"There are _four_ reading rooms, but why is it noisy _in every damn place?_"

Once I finally slipped passed those endless steps to the third floor, I sauntered down the grandly lit hallways with half-hearted hope, searching for a quiet study room. I turned abruptly as warm, afternoon sunlight suddenly spilled through the majestic windows, and just as I curiously glanced up, a flock of white birds took flight across my view.

I ghosted a smile. A small smile.

_Mother in Heaven… ten years has passed since you left me. Rich kids all seem like they're just at school to play… but the rich and magical seem to be even worse._

All they really did was bumble and dawdle. I don't think I've seen even one magic-user in this place take their studies seriously.

But… do they not know that if they do not devote their time to studying…. They'll never reach eternal happiness and joy?

I examined the tall granite plates and beautiful limestone tablets with sudden intrigue, clutching my books in my lanky arms, and as if on cue, the golden sunshine streamed onto my place of view. Automatically, I took detailed notes of the majestic overlays and laminates, as was my custom. I never wanted to miss anything. Being introduced to an extravagant, magical world such as Ouran was candy for my observant eyes.

They were all expertly crafted, sculpted into simple shapes and engraved to the rosy walls with elegance between each interval by the massive windows, probably done so by a high ranked Earth Angel or Earth Demon.

I peeked over at the plane windows, just to catch a glimpse of the courtyard's gate. However, my eyes widened as I focused my sights to the glass and – no – as it turned out, Ouran High did not have windows of glass, but of _ice _in their rich-ass hallways_. _I hesitantly placed a hand on them and felt a slight shiver under my baggy beige sweater. _Even the windows here are professionally constructed and seem to be_… I ran a finger across the surface, eyebrows rising_… bulletproof…? _I groaned, disbelief in my lowering eyes as I realized exactly how wealthy these Celestials were. Not even my old Teacher could afford to make such expensive commodities like this.

I swept my gaze down the illuminated hall and turned on my heel, no longer contemplating whether I should just leave for home to study. I was determined to see every single factor that was different than what I was used to.

As I marched across the smooth cream-like marble, hearing my pace echo per step, I sighed with relief since I couldn't hear anymore of that meaningless chatter or teenaged liveliness. I froze in mid-stride. A frown instantly creased my face and I narrowed my eyes as realization dawned on me.

_Wait… why _is_ it so… quiet?_

My eyes darted around me in impulsive suspicion before I smiled with cautious respite, amazement, and very soon, all my spirits rose with silent joy.

_A quiet hallway means quiet, and most likely, peaceful rooms!_

I spun on my heel, making my way down the silent corridors with a flicker of a grin still playing at my lips and a light tune that _almost _voiced through my mouth- however, I stopped myself just in time. There was no way I was going _that_ far. I couldn't believe such a phenomenon could have happened, and I couldn't wait until I found an unoccupied room to use before my little miracle was ruined. The day had been going downhill since I entered this academy, but perhaps that will finally change. I don't know what caused it, but this sudden upturn of luck sure as hell wasn't because of my unshakable will…

As I curved past the next corner in the west wing, I noticed a pair of pale pink doors in the empty corridor. My attention was then stolen by the golden-vined framed sign that stuck out above the entrance. I smiled inwardly. I had always been partial to the colour gold… _heh, how ostentatious for little ol' me, isn't it?_

_The Third Mystic Room_.

I raised an eyebrow, but anyone nearby wouldn't have noticed unless they were fairly close by my side. The thick-black framed-glasses I wore were far too big to see any change of expression on me – _it masked probably more than half of my face_ – but they did prove useful for my poor eyesight. My grandfather on my father's side owned them before, and I had about the same range of perception as he did when he was my age, so he kindly bestowed them to me. I treasured them dearly, as much as my other heirlooms in the family, unlike _certain _people in my school – I mean certain _snobbish _people in my school.

_Wait… doesn't that basically summarizes the _whole _school? _I gingerly wondered, before exasperating back into the grim reality. I frowned slightly and narrowed my big, brown eyes to squint at the characters engraved onto the extravagant sign, and my mind solely concentrated on the strange mystery behind it. _But… why would they have an _abandoned_ Mystic Room?_

It made very little sense. Though, it was not much of a surprise, if one thought about it. The complete and utter disregard for regular practice by these Celestials could beautifully explain an abandoned Mystic Room. Considering they have three, at least…. I wouldn't be shocked if the students viewed these magnificent rooms as expendable.

I absolutely loved Mystic Rooms because of the bursting of magic in the most common places: in the walls, against the windows, under the tiles, and sometimes charged into the furniture. They made them that way so Celestials of both kinds could train in them easily without destroying the whole building.

The walls – usually crafted by _very_ high ranked Earth Celestials – were completely damage-proof, what with the well warded and protected outer walls. The insides too were elucidated with anti-elemancy spells in case of a chance that the odd enchantment went completely haywire. The windows would be created by Water Angels or Water Demons – and like the ones in the hallways – were impossible to break. All in all, they would never be harmed with these overdosed spells, and the things inside could not break, by any means. The cause for such durability came from special enchantments that only high ranked Celestial's could do… that's what my Teacher said, anyway. However, she was always a little unorthodox, to the point of being blasphemous. There was a chance that these so-called 'special enchantments' were not actually a real thing.

In any case, Mystic Rooms were constantly used since they took an enormous amount of time to make, considering just the_ amounts _of magic that would be casted into the walls, how _long_ they would want the magic to last, and how _much_ money they would have to pay the architect.

_Are these rich kids that wealthy that they could easily pay off these rooms and not care about them thereafter?_ I silently pondered. It certainly seemed as such.

_Ah well, doesn't matter. _I looked around at my surroundings, searching for any source of noise, just to be safe. _As long as it's quiet, and no one is using it, I suppose it'll be fine… _A hopeful gaze went skywards, _right Mother?_

I hesitantly reached out for the golden handles, idly noticing the jolt of warded elemancy, and quickly reassured myself subconsciously. "I guess this would be the only place I could study quietly anyway..."

Suddenly a bright, _very_ bright, light struck me and a breeze of ruby red roses swirled amorously into my view. I smelt something similar to fresh vanilla or almond extracts as the rush of air passed. But that wasn't all. My big, brown eyes widened behind my frames comically and I seriously believed I was dreaming – or perhaps living a complete nightmare. Something in my body reacted, a shocking shiver I would assume, and I knew something catastrophic was about to happen. And I could only guess that it had something to do with the surreal sight before me.

Standing there – _no, more like purposely strutting_ – were six students – six _male_ students. And I wasn't indicating the average Celestial beauty when I emphasized 'male' since all Angels and Demons were born at least somewhat pretty. Nonetheless, these six _metamorphosed_ the average Celestial into a horrid beast when in comparison. Each and every single one of these oh-so-_very-_male students were heart-stoppingly, eye-catchingly and breathtaking attractive.

"Welcome."

My jaw went slack.

**Author's Notes:**

**[Original notes by Rayningnight]**

This was just a little idea I had when I read_ (_Ouran Challenge! by _wolfsrainrules_) and (In the Circle of Elemental Arms by _Kryssa's flute_), but I never had the time to reread and spell-check it. And yes, I in fact DID ask for that near-the-end description from Kryssa, so no, I didn't steal. Anyway, I don't know when I'll continue, but I will... sooner or later, and it'll probably be way longer than this.

Just to let you all know, this is going to always be in Haruhi's point of view until I type otherwise.

**PS**: They aren't actually spiritual 'Angels' and 'Demons'…I just called them that since it matches their description so well (ie: Humans with bird wings).


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club.

_**Misfortune 2: A Jar of Stardust**_

"Ouran Private Academy is defined by one: Prestigious Families, and two: Wealth. Prosperous people have much time on their hands. Therefore, the Ouran Host Club, here, is about these handsome and wealthy Celestials that have too much time on their hands, giving hospitality to those lovely ladies who also have too much time, and profit off of them. It's an elegant game unique to this super-rich school," the undeniably handsome, bespectacled man with night-black hair revealed a small smile, pushing up his frames with a slender finger.

I instantly sprung back towards the – _Why are they closed?_ – double doors in clear distress, "H-Ho-Host Club?" Something was utterly _wrong _with this school if they opened up a _Host Club _in a high school academy. Next thing I'd know, there would be a damn strip club opening up.

Immediately, I had the urge to gag.

But, before doing so, the heavy and high-strung tension that had been silently thrumming through the room died as my previous spoken words processed through their male brains. Two of the pretty boys in the sunlit room, twin gingers with topaz eyes who looked startlingly and _exactly _alike, grimaced at the mere sight of me.

""**What? It's a guy?**""

_How in the Angel's name do I look like a _boy _you retar – wait… _I sneakily glanced at my attire and instantly looked to my side in dismay… _never mind._

I had immediately taken note when I had entered the room that all six of these men were bearing forth, quite fashionably I must add, those expensive men's uniforms. Each was typically woven of magically-charged silks and satins that reacted to the wearer's element. At the moment, all their uniforms were composed of a dark periwinkle jacket, a white linen dress-shirt, night-black suspenders and a black satin tie with a thin purple stripe cutting straight through it; obviously nobody was using their birthed talents.

It was a simple style on its own, yet the young men before me wore it with such striking aplomb that it drew my usually non-caring gaze with great ease and pleasure. They were images of perfection, lighting up the already bright room with simply their presence – they were inconceivable eye-candy in and of themselves.

And that was _me_ talking here. The preppy, scholarship girl with a mind focussed solely on her studies.

However, what_ I_ was presenting was outright _sad_ in comparison: an old, taro-tinted sweatshirt that was two sizes too big, a stretched white-cotton undershirt that peeked out from my itchy wool sweater, horrendously slack and black sweatpants and archaic, schoolboy loafers. Though, I suppose my timeworn shoes were fine, perhaps not made from the finest of leather but were actually hole-less and essentially held no old stains from indefinite food particles. Truthfully, they were satisfactory enough for someone such as myself. Maybe my glasses had never reached the top of any fashion curve in the last… thousand years… but I think everything else was adequate… enough… surely…

Man, even in my own thoughts, I wasn't very reassuring. It is funny how being in the presence of beautiful people, I suddenly get self-conscious about my own appearance. And not ha-ha funny either. It's the funny that leaves a bad taste in your mouth, like overripe fruit or soggy lettuce.

"Hikaru, Kaoru," the still-unidentified man with glasses paused dramatically as he inclined his head towards the gingers with masked nonchalance, "You two are in the same class as this guest, right?"

He didn't sound like he was asking; it seemed like he was just confirming with said twins.

""**Yeah but…**,"" they both began, revolving their flame-red heads simultaneously to him with bored tones, ""**This person doesn't get along with the others well, so we don't really know him**,"" they answered uninterestedly in perfect unison, shrugging their squared shoulders and raising their palms. Wow, they truly resembled copies of each other, though the right one seemed to have a slightly, ever so slightly, deeper voice tone.

In hindsight, their habit of talking in unison really did remind me of somebody… I inwardly shuddered. Of course. It's to be expected that there are people who are just like _them_. Oh, the horror.

The bespectacled man half-lidded his onyx eyes and smiled, likely to himself, before gradually regarding me with an appraising look. "Now that's quite rude," he crossed his long-but-not-lanky arms and locked his coldly calculating eyes with mine, as if he could see into the depths of my very soul. "Welcome to the Ouran Host Club… _special _student."

"What!" the tall blonde suddenly jumped into my astonished view, perhaps a _little _too close for my comfort, since I could very well see his piercing violet-blue eyes – _Ah hell, he was much more than a _little_ too close –_and I promptly did a one-eighty turn for the door in what could be described as utmost horror. I hastily gripped the golden entrance handles and futilely tried turning the damn squiggle. A determined frown broke my lips and I kept shaking the flippin' thing like a madman before my eyes widened behind my square frames. _Why – no – How are the doors locked? _I mentally exclaimed.

"So he's that exceptional _special_ student, Fujioka Haruhi?"

I flinched, rotating my head towards them stiffly, "H-how do you know… my name?"

_Damn it all, why am I stuttering?_

The glasses guy smirked artfully, though the supposed smile did not reach his eyes at all. Why did he smile if it wasn't genuine? I knew then and there that I should _never _mess with this man… ever. Maybe one day I'll understand him, maybe even befriend the guy, but there was a _very _slim chance of that.

He was too similar.

But, perhaps in my next life I'll try.

…_pfft…_

I make myself laugh sometimes.

I tuned back into his ongoing but informative rambles. "Well the way this school works is different than almost every other academy in the world. Ouran High is a place for Celestials, Angel and Demon alike. There are few Ouran institution branches scattered across the globe, for those who can't or won't make it to Japan. Now you may or may not know this," he paused, "But almost every single Celestial Family is wealthy; they _are_ prestigious in some way, no matter what happens to them. That's how you get into this school, through your wealth or your lineage." The sunlight caught his frames as he pushed them up to the bridge of his nose.

"You on the other hand are neither rich nor in a respected household. You go against all that was meant to be: a _commoner _Celestial."

_All that was meant to be?_ How dumb could he possibly be if he thought _that_? Of course, that can be expected from someone like him.

I openly scowled. I couldn't easily divulge if he was disgusted or not, like most would be, since his inordinate façade was impenetrable. I didn't dwell on it for long though, since the excessively tall, ginormous gargantuan of a man in the back had his, err, _vertically challenged_ companion bouncing over to me with childish grace.

Wait. _Childish grace?_

"In other words Haru-chan, you had to go through the _odd_ way of getting accepted into this school that no one has ever done _except_ for you: through studies and tests! Obviously that means you're a studious bookworm commoner!" the little blonde boy cheered, his arms flailing in the air with optimistic bubbliness.

I don't even recall _using _the word bubbliness ever before, in my mind or otherwise.

My lips twitched in response.

"Err, thank you…?" _What's a kid doing in the high school division?_

""**Oh, it wasn't a compliment**,"" the twins chimed patronizingly.

My eyebrow twitched, but before I could riposte anything, the other, taller blonde boy put _an_ _arm around me_.

"Yes, even though you are at the top of your class, you're the poorest student in the whole academy! Others may marginalize you as a lowly civilian…"

I quickly shook his arm off me as he rambled on and on, slowly sidestepping away by the second. This guy was completely freaking me out. I've already had my share of extreme freak-ish-ness from my father, but _this_ guy was in a whole other level.

"No, I'm not as bad as you make me sound…" I tried to manage out, but he didn't hear and continued to advance onto me.

"You must have such a tragic story in your wake, having come from a family poorer than the grounds we walk on! Perhaps you've been working like an Egyptian slave, sweating blood and tears. Or like a medieval serf, grooming farms and…" I zoned out the rest of his inane prattle with a raised eyebrow. _Does this guy truly think that anyone who couldn't go to this academy, or wasn't rich to say the least, is as low as an ancient human slave?_ I pondered, idly regarding his uniform as it changed colors.

Suddenly my attention was seized as a sensationally bright aura hit me. No – not _a _bright aura, but _his _bright Aura. His gray-blue jacket was pure platinum-white now, slightly tinted with gold and ultimately glowing with _visible_ emotion. His originally black slacks were now the colour of snow. Up close, it was excessively blinding, especially his – now golden striped – satin tie. _Obviously he's a Light. _I swept my gaze over the Aura around him of pure white-gold… _though I wonder if he's a Demon or an –_ scratch that. Two translucent white feathers were slowly descending to the floor that he had stepped over, and the only Celestial moving in the room was the blonde, so it was likely – _no, more than likely_ – that he was the owner of said abandoned white quill.

Demons and Angels weren't essentially that diverse to say the least, though some may differ on this debate. There were only two characteristics distinguishing their differences that I have recognized. One was that Demons had translucent ebony black feathers whereas Angels had virtually transparent, ivory white wings. The additional dissimilarity was that Demons were slightly more dominant as a Dark, Water or Wind; Angels birthed as a Light, Fire or Earth held the naturally enhanced advantages within these elements, and both races were equal in supremacy when allocating with the Lightning attribute. Nonetheless, each of the two races needed to be correspondingly erudite to gauge their true abilities. Experience was always the essential key, no matter what element ran through their blood or family.

I tuned back into the blonde's consistant blabbering. "…so in other words, you are a hero to all those normal, common Mundanes!"

A frown chiselled its way onto my face and I turned to the ridiculous blue-eyed blonde.

"Mundanes?"

"Yes. You know those fickle and foolish humans correct? I mean you have been living with those Mundanes until high school, else we would have seen you in middle or elementary school, right?" the blonde smiled idiotically, his violet-blue eyes shining with no shame in what he said.

Mundane was basically the improper and rude term for human or mortal or whatever _normal_ people call them. But so far, all the rich bastards I've met think of them as a 'lower' race – so technically _all _the Celestials I know think of humans as inferior creatures, a pedestrian species. Really, I am not indulgent with their beliefs of this, and not once have I ever thought so in the least. Most of the humans may not possess the physical abilities and exterior traits that we were born with, but their mentality was by far as good as ours and some even superior to our Celestial cognizance (like the man named Albert Einstein in our science textbooks). We are one and the same, except for our appearances and magical abilities.

At least that was what_ I _believed in. That is what my _Teacher_ believed in, so ardently. In the end…. There was no difference between humans and Celestials, in my eyes.

As I was about to respond to his outrageous notion of the human race, I felt a small hand clasp into mine, and curiously found the short fair-haired boy at my side, his enormous brown eyes bared in my face with bright mirth. "Haru-chan, Haru-chan," flowers and sparkles danced around him, and his brown doe-eyes gave off a wave of innocence as he shined a white-toothed smile before he spoke. "Are you a hero Angel or hero Demon?"

He wasn't interrogating me, which was another abnormality in this situation. If he were an Angel, he would have added eloquent distaste when mentioning Demons, or shrewd disgust if it'd been vice-versa. Demons and Angels had been on an eternal war since the dawn of time, which in itself was peculiar to me. I may not have been born in a privileged family – that probably could've explained these hostilities – nor was I highly ranked, so I never truly understood why Demons and Angels had despised the opposing race for over a millennium, or perhaps longer.

It never explained it in the textbooks. Just the concept of there being a school which allowed the two races to learn… side-by-side…

Well, that was one of the things that drew me here.

"Why do you ask?" I casted a glance at all six men curiously and my tone entered the cautious zone as I clarified hesitantly. "Are you all Angels or Demons?"

"Both!" the little boy immediately answered, as if he was used to responding to said question with a beaming smile. He was grinning up at me whist snuggling his small, pink plush bunny, as if gauging my soon-to-be reaction.

"Pardon?" Clearly I did not hear right. I blinked rapidly as I slowly managed my voice. "Are all of you saying you're _both, _Angel and Demon halflings, or are you saying each of you are different?" I more than highly doubted the first notion, but the latter was just as outrageously incredulous.

The twins smirked deviously at the exact _same time_, and suddenly I felt them slinging their slender arms around me none to gently.

""**Not like it matters. We take customers by their preference in persona, not breed.**"" I tried shaking them off casually, but it seemed like they weren't as airheaded as the dumb blonde. ""**Oh yeah**,"" they both grinned and blew air onto my neck, making me shiver uncontrollably, at the _damn same time_. ""**We'll even take homos in like you.**""

I instantly whipped my head to the bespectacled man, who I presumed was in charge and righteously ignored the impish twins and the sudden rising of gooseflesh on my alabaster skin. "H-homo?" I raised what I hoped was a calm brow in his direction. "What the hell are they talking about?"

He smiled coolly at me, snapping his black note-book shut – though I didn't even realize it was open until then – and spoke in an unhurried tone, as if he had all the time in the world. "It's rumoured that you're gay, Fujioka-_kun_," he revealed a tiny, inconspicuous smile again, this time with an added shrug of the shoulders.

_Damn him, was he trying to manipulate everyone into thinking I was a guy? Wait… what did being gay have anything to do with…_

"By the Angel, you all think I _want_ to be hosted in your damn clu –" I managed the incredulous mutter, but I wager only the spectacled man noticed I even began speaking, because before I could even finish, let alone blink, the dumb blonde popped into my personal bubble – again.

"Oh don't worry Fujioka-kun, we aren't here to judge. So what will it be? The strong and silent Mori or Loli-Shota Honey…" he gestured towards the _massively _towering-tall man with sun-bronzed skin and black almond-eyes.

I blinked, and suddenly realized the little boy I swore had _just _been next to me second ago magically appear on Mori's back. Obviously he didn't use magic to get there, else I would've felt his energies. He waved at me innocently, and I could visibly see floating flowers and sparkles around him. _He must be a Light like this other blonde… _I looked at said person as he continued melodramatically, "… or forbidden brotherly-lovers…" He waved off towards Hikaru and Kaoru. My blinking attention was then instantly stolen as the twins were leaning into each other, hands intertwined as if they were about to kiss.

_I think I'm going to puke_… I felt something in my throat even after I severed my sight from that… _Ugh_. I shuddered inwardly.

The still unidentified blonde slowly continued with brightly histrionic tones, grinning like the nitwit I now dubbed him as, "…or even the _cool _type himself a.k.a Kyoya," he motioned his – now literally glittering – hands to the cold, yet openly smiling, bespectacled man. It was obvious that he was either a Water or Dark. I'd seriously laugh if he was a Light or Fire though.

_I mean come on, this guy is like the _completely _utter opposite. _I mentally chucked to myself, despite my circumstances. Suddenly I felt warm fingers slide themselves under my chin, and I found my gaze locking themselves with violet-blue orbs. "…or perhaps you want _me_?" the tall blonde whispered huskily.

Although my immediate attention should have been had by the quick thought of _getting away_ from this frivolous young man, in actuality, it was curiously drawn to the peculiar Marking on his neck, south-west of his Adam's apple.

Markings glowed whatever shade of element one was when the person would release their energies, and they would also indicate how powerful one was by the area of the Marking. Most were born with it on their hands, left for left-handed and right for right-handed, and I have yet to know where ambidextrous Markings lead to. As one would get more powerful, more experienced, the birthed Marking travels – ever so slowly – closer to one's eye, left hands to right eye, and right hands to left eye.

His was glowing luminously on his flawless skin, shining in pale patches. White light softly shined, filtering out into the air like a haze from the anomalous design. Shaped like two, dissimilarly sized, thick golden chains aimed up and into a translucent circle and three zigzagging, arrow-like contours intertwined from the sphere, the matrix Marking of white-gold glow resembled a sun, with chains of thunder and arrows of lightning storming out. Wait. A golden radiance? Markings could be in whatever shape, size or symbol, but the hue would always have been the colour of one's element. And gold… a shade of darkened yellow…

…represented a Lightning.

"A Lightning Angel?" I recognized immediately, astonishment and incredulity laced into the spoken whisper. It was only then that I realized the unconscious sentence was uttered out loud, to him only it seemed, and my brown eyes widened along with his now shocked violet ones. Strangely, as if his emotions locked up themselves, his almost mesmerizing tattoo dispersed and disappeared as if it was never there. Funnily it appeared that I actually stole _his_ breath. But... I really thought he was a Light... truly.

He surely acted like one.

The blonde unexpectedly flew back, as if he had been burned by my touch – or words in this case. His eyes darkened for a fraction with some unknown emotion, and I took note that his raven-haired companion – Kyoya – suspiciously appeared as if he was about to question the blonde, before a ridiculously goofy smile broke out, ceasing all initiations. "Ah yes, I'm a Lightning, though many persons have believed that I was a Light at first. I can never understand _how _one could even think I was a Light! I mean, really, how do I seem like a Light to anyone? Simply speaking…" he kept rambling on and on, getting closer and closer into my private space.

Hasn't this guy ever heard of a _personal bubble_?

I retained my backpedaling as the melodramatic blonde seemed to drone on persistently about simply nothing in particular. As I stiffly moved backwards and as the stupid blonde kept happily strolling forwards, not one person in the room (but maybe Kyoya) realized exactly how close I was getting to a particularly important pedestal with a certain important vase on it – at least, not until I felt myself smack against said elegant podium with my typical clumsiness. Instantly I whirled around with barely enough time to register the unbalanced large, bluish urn topple over and, like watching a cheesy movie in slow motion, smash against the ground.

Surely nothing could have made this worse, but I was, to my shock and shame, wrong.

My bespectacled gaze widened as I gazed at the shards of pottery, and in its midst, a handful or so of crystal-like balls. Each of them varied from dimensions that faintly resembled ripe grapes to a size as large as a soft baseball, see-through unless you had the magical eye for the swirling, elemental dust inside, and so perfectly round, one would automatically recognize that an experienced Celestial had dutifully prepared it and not some human's industrious, glass manufacturing company. I casted my brown-eyed gaze over, and suddenly noticed that even more of the mystical spheres had predictably rolled out of the shattered vase, some perhaps flew through the air, and bounced onto the spotless, marbled floor a few feet away.

And then, before I could breathe in my sigh of relief that none had broken, the inevitable happened.

One by one, the small glass balls slowly, agonizingly cracked and startlingly shattered, and the glittering mystic powder of each soon commingled together to create a single, seven-coloured, sparkling haze. It was beautiful, as if the nighttime sky had come down and assorted itself with colour bursts of rainbows and such to create the twinkling, shining mist to fizzle in the very room. The wispy insides twirled and danced, creating a stunning, glimmering scene of all colours, tints and hues one could only possibly imagine. But, all things must come to an end, and once the fine threads of shimmering dust dispersed furthermore and winked from existence did I suddenly realize the awestruck silence of my – err – companions, had spun undeniably… apprehensive.

Silence followed.

And that was when the entire weight of what technically occurred finally settled unto me, none to gently to add. I wasn't able to even stutter out a single syllable, as I was at such a loss, my eyes widening comically behind my thick frames. I even had the urge to let my jaw slacken (again) from the sudden realization.

As if they finally broke out of their shock, the ginger-haired twins were the first who stepped closer, and one of the two crouched down to curiously inspect the fragments of my horrific mess. "Well, that priceless vase _was _going to be on sale for at least eighty grand at our school auction," he abruptly smirked, his topaz eyes igniting with cat-like mischief before he flicked the orbs in what suspiciously looked like amusement in my direction, "but I get this, hmm, _feeling_ that it won't sell for a dollar or less."

Seriously, if I hadn't been in this awful, flippin' mess and had actually been paying attention to exactly what the insensitive guy just uttered, I would have happily pummelled the smug look off his damn, pretty-boy face. Alas, I was too engrossed with my skipping heart beats after he said 'eighty grand' so nonchalantly, as if that outrageous price tag wasn't the amount a normal, _average _person earned in three, maybe five years. Upon the realization of exactly how much damage I had inflicted, I wouldn't have been too surprised if I had fainted outright from hyperventilating.

The other twin, the one that hadn't squatted down to inspect the broken wreckages of my accident, came onto me with false pity, pouting with big bright eyes in what he probably thought was sympathy as he propped his elbow onto me with phony camaraderie. One strand of strawberry blond hair brushed against me as he leaned closer to my face, perhaps waiting for my reaction to whatever he was about to say. He raised his chin, giving me an appraising look, "Who cares about the vase? It's what was inside that mattered. The whole thing was like, filled to the brim with Spellglobes and Charmorbs," he sighed dramatically, "But now they're all shattered to pieces: useless and messy. Such a shame," he tsk-ed and shook his head in demeaning disapproval.

This time, I truly felt myself wavering on my own two feet, involuntarily leaning against the now-unoccupied pedestal for support. Spellglobes were glass balls packed with a Celestial's magic and were to be used for any specific purpose. Even the humans were capable of using them, for instance, powering their cars instead of using fossil fuels or perhaps adjusting the temperature in their homes – but, as were most things that were of great convenience, they were _extremely_ expensive and incredibly hard to create. Not to mention how hard it was to find the items needed to put the Spellglobes together. It took a lot of time and energy to make just one, and only the very wealthy could possibly afford more than a handful in their lifetime. For the vase to have been chockfull with them, some in clear-cut glass containers nearly the size of baseball, already this bespoke of Ouran's wealth better than anything else. Moreover, a quarter of the urn had been filled with _Charmorbs. _

I shook my head rapidly, half-heartedly covering my face as well, as if to deny all the facts in front of me. But, of course, my blunt and obvious mind had to kick in – I wasn't the smartest first-year in Ouran for nothing.

_I'm screwed._

**Author's Notes**

**[original notes by Rayningnight]**

Posted on April 4th, 2012, I must say, I'm quite... satisfied with this. I asked Kryssa for the use of the term 'Spellglobes' and many of you have probably seen a few similarities to her story, but I will say this now, that the whole plot in and of itself will be different. I needed terms and uses for the characters and items, so please don't flag me as a copier, since I did in fact ask. I'm terribly sorry for not updating but I've had no time these days! Thanks for reading, and I do hope you all review!

**PS**: If anyone sees a grammar/spelling mistake and such, please inform me, because I just post my chapters onto here without re-reading them. I don't have a beta-reader (since I only _just _found out what they actually were) so I only rely on my grade 9 writing skills.

Author's Note [RikaFurude13]: After this point, this story is written and conceptualised by RikaFurude13. Give credit to rayningnight and Kryssa's Flute for the original ideas laid out in the previous two chapters, please.


	3. Chapter 3

**Misfortune_ 3: A Magic Constrained_**

**Teacher's Compendium, Page 1: Introduction**

One's inner nature is not carved out by their wings, or their magic. It is carved out by the decisions they make.

I have made many decisions.

I have made many mistakes.

It would be a blatant lie if anybody tried to deny those facts about themselves.

Why must there be a difference? In the end… we are all the same, yet different.

As am I. I am one, but many. Made up of different parts. Made up of the divine… and the sinful.

That is the basis for my magic.

That difference… is what defines _me_, and what defines the magic that I create.

Whether it be considered falsehoods… or whether it be considered the sweetest of honey…

That… is my magic.

~ The Teacher, page 1 of the magical Compendium, the Truth

* * *

"Well, Tamaki? What do you think we should do about this?" the one I knew now to be called Kyoya said in a business-like manner, pushing up his glasses again and scribbling something down in that black notebook of his. I pondered over his almost-robotic actions with a faint curiosity, wanting something to get my mind off of the travesty that had just occurred moments before.

Maybe he pushes up his glasses so much because he wants to be regarded as particularly intelligent, I figured. He's rich enough… if his glasses do not fit, he could simply get a new pair. I smiled inwardly. _Hah. One mystery down._

I felt increasingly proud of myself, but really, all I was doing was wasting time while the Lightning Angel called Tamaki thought about my sentence.

I wondered if I could lessen the degree at which the guillotine blade was to strike me. I knew I could not avoid the Mark of Penitence, but surely if I were to make something up and reverse the issue in some way, I could perhaps reduce whatever might come my way like a tonne of bricks.

However, I felt as if my explanations and reasoning as to the fact that _this was not entirely my fault in the first place _would futilely fall on deaf ears. The spiel Tamaki had given earlier about how he simply _couldn't imagine_ how anybody would mistake him for a Light- however flamboyant he was- was proof enough for me that they would not regard anything I had to say in my defence. But, maybe I was judging them too harshly. I just met them after all….

I looked at Kyoya scribbling and pushing up his glasses, the little kid talking to the gargantuan one beside him, the twins muttering to each other about the vase and its rather… pricey assets, and Tamaki, who was making a big show of thinking very hard about my punishment.

Nah, I don't think I'll risk it.

"Well," Tamaki began, and I immediately snapped out of my reverie to pay full attention to him. It wasn't particularly difficult… considering how it seems that the Angel had blessed him with better looks than most, no matter how much I did not want to admit as such.

"Fujioka, you may be familiar with the saying: 'When in Rome, do as the Romans do'! So, from now on, you shall be the Host Club's dog!" He grinned at me and my eyes narrowed slightly from behind my large frames.

"…D, dog?"

_What the bleeding, cursed living hell…?!_

I silently cursed myself for stuttering yet again and I took a deep breath, increasingly aware of how one of the twins placed his arm around my neck again. I fought back a chill as my personal space was invaded, and he spoke into my ear.

"Hm… does that _bother_ you, Haruhi-kun?" he asked in a sultry voice, and I gulped visibly, wanting him away, away, AWAY! Gah, I felt like such a child.

"N, no, of course not! Now… get off!" I protested, finally, against his arm around me and pushed him away slightly. He looked a little bit surprised at how I had reacted and I rubbed my forehead, sighing deeply. It seemed like I was doing that a lot lately. He was lucky that I hadn't breathed fire at him yet. Not that I could, but I certainly wished it.

Then again, my dad already said I had a fiery way of speaking at… certain _times…_

_Only girls would get what I mean by that…_

Haha, when the middle of the month rolls around… that twin _better_ watch out.

"At any rate," Kyoya cut in, staring right at me. "Your first job will to be to clean the remains of the vase, the charmorbs and the spellglobes up and dispose of them properly in the back room. Surely, you cannot expect any of us to take care of it."

I frowned, finding his rather cool nature abrasive. I had to fight from sarcasm leaking its way into my voice. I could tell at a glance that I was not going to like this one very much… he exuded so much false kindness it would probably make me gag, if I wasn't so irritated at him. "That makes sense."

"The dustpan and broom are in the back room," one of the twins said as they both left my side, as well as the site of the fateful mess.

After that statement, the entirety of the Host Club ignored me as I went to do as they said. I couldn't believe I had to work here, and probably until my debt was paid. Hmm… I should get those details confirmed… Maybe there was a hole somewhere I could wriggle through… I wasn't the daughter of a lawyer for nothing, and I would like to be in the vicinity of these very odd… handsome boys as _little as possible_.

I did the task I was supposed to, cleaning up the mess thoroughly. It was easy to distinguish the clear glass boundaries of the shattered magical items with the remnants of the blue vase. I smiled to myself.

They said I was now obligated to work here… but none of them said I couldn't do any practising while I was here… After all, that was my original intention for coming to this damn room.

I took my full dustpan into the back room, which was concealed completely by a beige curtain. I sent a silent thanks to the Angel that the curtain existed, and I waited a few moments to make sure I wasn't being pursued or watched.

_Heh, who would want to watch someone like me, anyway?_

I emptied the contents of the dustpan onto a table and began to sort the pieces out into two sections. In one pile, I put the pieces of the broken spellglobes and charmorbs. In the other, I put the pieces of the vase. It seemed to be made of porcelain, and I felt chills run up and down my back when I rubbed my fingernail absently against the gritty material. I couldn't help but let a small giggle escape my lips at the funny feeling.

I, now with an all-business and no-play air, then took the glass-like pieces of the spellglobes and charmorbs and threw them away in the designated bin. However, after I had done that, I returned to the table where the vase pieces lay, not putting them into the garbage bin.

Now, I won't deny this. I was nervous. If anyone were to peep into the room, who knows what trouble I could get into for dilly-dallying? They wouldn't understand what I was after. It was probably too complicated for them, a 'commoner' (ugh, the way some people at this school said it made it sound as derogatory as 'Mundane') being able to fix their precious little baubles. Besides…

A line I had memorized from something I had read many times…

'Damage will surely come to those who flaunt. Do not demonstrate a unique ability if your company does not ask for such.'

The Host Club certainly didn't ask for this. The idea was probably unconceivable to them, and their narrow-mindedness. I knew this school only taught elemental magic. Rarely do magic schools teach anything else.

That magic was considered fake. A falsehood, a sleight of hand. Nothing more than deceitful tricks.

Even this much could not hold itself. That was what I was worried about.

I ran my hands over the jagged pieces of the vase, careful not to cut myself. I could imagine it now… the Host Club thinking I'm completely incompetent because I could not throw away a simple vase. Though it was not as if I particularly cared what they thought of me.

I let a sigh escape my lips.

The magic of illusions… has no substance. Even this golden light is not truly 'real', in the literal sense of the word. It could not hold itself in the 'real world'. If met with somebody who denied its existence or did not acknowledge it… it would scatter into golden dust…

However, some people can take it further. Sometimes, they can solidify the illusion until there are no holes where malevolent substance can pry through. Sometimes, it can _become real_, even in this broken and finite world.

It has no basis in elemency. It would not be considered light elemency, just because of the golden light the magic emits. It would not be considered earth elemency, as the organic pieces of the vase began to knit themselves together. It would not be considered dark elemency, even if it falls apart at the slightest touch.

It is not elemency. There is no word to describe the making of concepts such as this. This vase… is no longer 'alive'. But this vase can be 'revived', if only for a little.

No… that's not it. I won't allow it to be 'revived' for only a short amount of time. I pursed my lips in concentration and set myself with a determined resolve.

No… I will 'revive' this vase permanently! It will no longer be an abstract concept. It will be… exactly as it was before! Maybe, even better, because it cannot break again! My magic overrides its fate. It knows that if it drops again, it will surely 'not die again', because it knows now that it is 'alive', no matter what.

Heh. I could only dream, and keep trying.

"Haruhi? What are you doing in there?"

I jumped and was brought out of my intense concentration. It was Tamaki who had spoken, and he was waiting outside the curtain.

_Damn it_. I looked down at my handiwork. The vase was only half fixed, and I knew the job would probably not achieve what I wanted it to. I needed more time, but the Host Club obviously would not allow that… I only hoped that what was fixed would stay fixed until I got back to it. I wasn't entirely sure about it, but I needed a miracle. Maybe it would manifest itself in this.

"I'm coming," I called to him, and I saw the shadow of Tamaki nod before walking away. I picked up the extra pieces of the vase that hadn't been mended yet, and dropped them inside the half-fixed vase. I put the vase in the corner behind the trash bin, and hoped that nobody would find it, at least until I could come back to it.

I exited the back room and was promptly met with a piece of paper in my face. I noticed that it was a list full of ordinary things like 'coffee, napkins, Persian chocolate' and what-not.

_Wait. Persian chocolate? What's so special about Persian chocolate?_

"Tomorrow, before you check in at the Host Club, you shall go shopping for us. 'Kay?" Tamaki smiled triumphantly at me and I snatched the list from him in irritation. Kyoya gave me some money and smiled darkly.

"Now, Haruhi, remember to get a receipt, and give my change back."

I nodded. It really rubbed me the wrong way. Kyoya's expression clearly stated that he thought I would just buy the items on the list and keep the rest of the money for myself. That was an ignorant notion. I was already in an 80-grand debt, why would I voluntarily increase it?

Ugh, I had no time to think about this. "Fine. Can I go now?"

Tamaki nodded to me and I snatched up my bag, getting ready to get the hell out of there. Too much had happened in one day, and I was ready to go home, make dinner for my dad, and go to sleep. There was no point in even studying anymore; with any additional pressure cycling through my head, I would surely faint.

I opened the door, the opulent handle mocking me by just being there. I gave a sigh and wrenched the door- now unlocked, I noticed- open and stalked out.

I tried not to think about the fact that I would be spending a lot more of my time with these people.

Because, surely, thinking about such things would only make my blossoming migraine worse, and Dad didn't need any drastic mood swings from me. He was working so hard, and I really did not want to end up biting his head off.

So, I walked down the empty corridor, my footsteps echoing through the siren's silence; if I had simply not been attracted to the quiet nature of this hallway, none of this would have happened. I knew what that hallway did now. It lured me, like a fish awaiting its death at the surface…

How completely and utterly morbid. Surely this situation wasn't so bad? All I had to do was clean up and go shopping. They were, essentially, the same chores I did at home. The only difference was….

_Them_.

There was absolutely no way that chance was on my side. These young men were nothing short of _perfect_, and yet I had stumbled right into their grasp like a butterfly into a spider's web. And the sticky strands of my debt were not intending to let me go. A perfect analogy.

_I should write that down. Haha_. Dad would be proud of that one. Also, I hated spiders, so it worked even more.

Why does this type of thing happen to me? I am not remarkable in any way; hell, I'm wearing huge, out-of-style old man glasses, for Heaven's sake! It seemed that Fate wanted to throw every twist at me that it could. Perhaps it was making up for my rather uneventful life thus far.

However, no matter what the implications, justifications or causes were, the facts stood as follows:

I am basically a servant for the Ouran High School Host Club, which is filled with fancy and beautiful guys, who entertain girls who have nothing better to do (except studying, but who wants to ruin a narration with that?). I knew that they were a mixture of race and talent, and no matter how much they irritated me at this moment…. I couldn't help but admire the great tolerance they have shown.

In the world of the wealthy, especially, there has always been a huge rivalry between Angels and Demons. I'm not entirely sure why; there were not many Celestials in my old peer group; though, I have to admit that some of my old friends could do no less than the remarkable.

Like I said, the history books never truly explained the rift. All I know is that there is one.

It is not like every Demon and Angel is fated, or even bound to hate each other. Even among the rich, I have seen best friends who were of the opposing race. That girl in the fourth library even had romantic feelings for someone of the opposite race. It was not anything particularly special. It was just a little surprising, because I had always heard that there was a tension. Yet here, at Ouran, the tensions were very low, and that is one of the things I like about this school, even if it is full of rich kids who do nothing but play around.

The Senators and Representatives of the two opposing Courts also meet on a regular basis. And, judging by the fact that there has not been an all-out massive brawl between the twenty individuals in those positions, I think their abilities of cooperation go rather well, considering.

Mom said that it was always a time of nervousness for her. She never associated with the Great Court of Hell directly… but she did not like to mention them, regardless. I know why, but that's neither here nor there. She said that the Court of Hell didn't even allow Angels to run for the positions in the Court… I think that might be the greatest example of that hidden rift nobody likes to talk about. As a result of that discrimination, the Great Court of Heaven is about 75 percent Angel. I was always proud of the fact that the Court that monitors my actions exclusively was so flexible with the times, even if there was not exactly a complete equilibrium.

I owe my life to a member of that Court. My mother was a lawyer, both in real life and in the magical world. She was a very good one, too. I must have received at least a hundred 'Sorry for your loss' cards when she died. I still have all of them in a box in my room… though I don't look at them often, because a lot of what is on them is the type of sickly sweet sappy sad stuff that makes me cry like a waterfall; and then crying gives me a headache.

Hmm, I guess it is true that sometimes something that is too sweet can give you a headache. Living proof, right here.

I trudged home, eager to take a shower and wash off the… _eventful_ day and make dinner for my dad when he returned home from his shift at the tranny bar. My dad certainly works hard….

* * *

AN: Hello, so this is the first real, full chapter put up by me. I hope you all liked it.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Misfortune 4: Differences and Ignorance_**

**Haruhi's Compendium, Page 18: On Magic and Its Definition**

For the narrow-minded, magic is naught more than a fairy-tale. For the even more narrow-minded, magic is a limited force that can only be taught one way.

This book is proof that this claim is false. A compendium can exist only if there was variation.

I will lay out my beliefs, and my thoughts about what most may think to be heretical, and nothing more than a conspiracy spread around by an ignorant child.

I assure you it is not.

The first magic is perhaps the magic most would turn to if they ever thought of the word 'Celestial'. Elemency. The ability to control the elements and manipulate them in such a way as to benefit yourself. There are seven different elements, and Celestials are commonly categorised by their elemency, as well as their race.

Light, Dark, Fire, Water, Wind, Water and Lightning.

Light, Fire and Earth are more commonly associated with Angels.

Dark, Wind and Water are commonly associated with Demons.

Lightning is neutral, because it is a pure physical energy that connects all.

However, most do not interpret elemency that way, because more anomalies exist than one will originally think.

Elemency is accepted among all, including Humans, for its usefulness in the physical world. The next two I shall speak of are not so tolerated, because its use is not recognised by those who do not care to see.

The next magic is what most would call the 'magic of a street magician', or 'trickster's magic'. That is because it involves sleight of hand and trickery to convince the witness into thinking that the 'magic is most certainly real'.

Now, I know what you must be thinking. If it is merely a set of mind games, then why call it 'magic'?

That is a deep question. What is the purpose of such seemingly-falsehoods?

However, you forget that we live in a physical world. Flashy shows based on nothing but pure concept cannot hold its form. If you concentrate on a penny really hard and try to make it look like a quarter to fool the cashier of a grocery store, you will certainly fail. That is because the penny has no reason to be a quarter. It was not made for that purpose.

However, if you procured a false quarter made out of a substance that was less than twenty-five but still resembled a quarter, it has its purpose. A false quarter is meant to look like a quarter. A penny is not.

In this form of magic, this magic that can hold its form here; there needs to be an equality, like an equation from algebra class:

claim of magic=trick of reason

A 'human' explanation must always match up to the 'claim of magic'. If it does not, it creates a logical error and the magic you were trying to create would fall apart, and become useless.

a penny 'magicked' to look like a quarter=/=a quarter

a disc made to look like a quarter=a quarter

Here is another example. I set you down in a chair and show you an empty teacup, putting it face down on the table, tell you to close your eyes, and then tell you to open them and to lift the cup. You lift the cup and it is suddenly full of candy. I then will proceed to tell you that 'that was magic'. That is my claim.

You have two choices: take it as it is and accept my claim of magic, or use logical reasoning to drive a wedge into my claim of magic, effectively destroying it.

Either way, the candy-in-a-cup magic is magic that can hold its form in the real world, because it has an equally possible human solution.

This can apply on a larger scale. Say you have an investment in a new and blossoming company, and you want it to grow large so you can make a lot of money. Thus, you hire people and make plans to aid the company in its growth, forever sure and certain in your resolve that you can profit from this.

A couple of years later, you have become wealthy. When people ask you, you can say one of two things:

'I made necessary plans and provisions in order to ensure the growth of the company I invested in', or

'I believed in the power of my magic'.

Both would be correct, because the two statements mean the same thing. That is the magic that can be conceptually whole in _this_ world.

However, this next magic is _not _conceptually whole in this world. This is because it is mere illusion. It is not trickery, nor is it a deft manipulation of the elements. It is a broken form of the last magic, in a sense. It is about as useless as a hologram of a butterfly.

You see, the world we live in is not the only world that exists. This is bordering on the 'dangerously theoretical', but I believe that there exists more than one world, and more than one universe. You have a physical world, in which elemency and sleight of hand magic can reign, and a world that hovers in the background of perception. The original source of magic.

Nobody in this world knows why the ability to do elemency exists. I think, however, that it is because of this 'meta' world, this unconceivable, unimaginable, golden world that can create something out of nothing, and destroy a universe in a blink of an eye. This world has every possibility, every single permutation of universes, in one place.

This is where illusionary magic can take form.

For example, I said earlier that no matter how hard you tried, you could not turn a penny into a quarter through sheer force of will and nothing else. However, in this perfect, magical land, you can.

Illusionary magic does not just apply to this formless energy, though. It can also refer to embellishment.

Take the investment example above. Now, what if, instead of saying: 'I believed in the power of my magic', you said that 'the magic of the unicorn Shimbula guided me to my success'.

That is illusionary magic. Now, you are no longer just claiming to have performed 'magic'. You are now giving it a conceptual form, and placing the magic within the realm of something that, in this world, 'simply cannot exist, no matter what'.

This is a hard concept, and it is hard to write this. Illusionary magic has always come easy to me... so it is hard to believe that it is difficult to grasp by some people.

At any rate... these last two forms of magic are very vulnerable. Unlike elemency, it has not been accepted in the realm of human understanding, and thus is very vulnerable to attack. An attack can come in the form of either denying a 'sleight of hand' magic by saying: "you put the candies under the cup while my eyes were closed', or simply disbelieving the embellishment by illusionary magic (i.e. firmly disbelieving 'the unicorn Shimbula' and its magic). In some magic-users of this type, simply being in the presence of disbelievers can cause a serious conceptual burn.

~Haruhi Fujioka, pages 18-21

* * *

Freshly showered and dressed in clean clothes, I emptied my bag out so I could properly gauge what materials I would need for classes tomorrow. Considering it had only been a few days since the school term started, I was still bringing too many school supplies, just in case I needed them. However, I had cycled through all of my classes- well, at least all, except for my main elemency course- and I now knew what I needed the next day.

Of course, there was one book that I had to have on my person unconditionally, at all costs. They were very important to me, and I would not like it very much if I had to write or read something relevant all of a sudden, and end up not having the correct materials for the job.

This book was actually rather small, for having so much information contained inside its pages. It was a compendium; the magical compendium of my Teacher. That was all I ever called her. She never had a name… perhaps that is why she always said that I would end up being more powerful than even her; she was a firm believer that once one knew the name of something, the influence of that something grew exponentially. She would always laugh, saying that at least I recognised that she had a body, or otherwise she'd _really_ be in trouble.

A compendium, essentially, is a representation of all of the magical beliefs a magic-user held. This included techniques, theories and individual interpretations. It takes the form of a book and can be delved into by students. My Teacher let me have her compendium to study as supplemental material, as I figured out my own interpretations of the magic around me. I would also read the ones my parents constructed also.

I had perused the Ouran libraries during study hall on the first day of school, and was disappointed to find that there was not even a reference section where compendiums and beliefs of the old masters were stored. I had asked the librarians if they had anything of the sort, and they immediately directed me to a corner of the library full of elemency instruction books; however, there was nothing about the thoughts and interpretations of old instructors of Celestial magic.

I wonder why. All of this seemed so confusing. The way Ouran taught was vastly different than I was used to, and it didn't seem like any flexibility or creativity was encouraged in the least. I mean, there was plenty of encouragement by teachers for the students to find new and useful ways to use their elemency… but all of those ways were merely innovations. We have not been encouraged to create something new, yet.

Somebody must have, at some point, otherwise there wouldn't be seven different categories of elemency to begin with. At some time, long, long ago, somebody had realised a difference between the different elements in the use of elemency, and defined them finally as seven separate abilities that could not be crossed over. That was innovation. Constrictive innovation, but innovation nevertheless.

Where was that at? I had not detected any trace of that in Ouran instruction yet.

_But maybe it's too early to tell._

I sighed and took out my notebook from my bag. I opened it to a fresh page and began penning my thoughts on the subject. One didn't need to physically write down the contents of one's own compendium, but I deliberately did it, so I knew exactly what would show up. I knew the repercussions of leaving my thoughts and my mind to do all of the work. The paradigm shifts I had experienced as of late would make my compendium almost impossible to read by anyone other than myself. I sometimes would come across that in my dad's writing; he did not physically write down his style. Neither did my Teacher. Strangely enough, though, her writing is completely free of glitches.

_Thank the Angel… glitches in _her _writing would be as hard as hell to decipher._

She was always a complicated person, and often spoke more in riddles than anything else. She also liked Dimbula tea, and would always serve it with a spicy pastry. It would make my mouth burn a lot, but I had to admit… the spiciness and the black tea would always go well together.

I was jolted out of my deep concentration as my father came in the door, hanging his jacket up and taking off his sunglasses.

"Hellooo~ Haruhi, how is my darling little daughter doing?" he asked in a cloying voice that was enough to make me taste thick molasses in my mouth. My dad… was something else, that's for sure.

Ryoji Fujioka (stage name: Ranka) bounded over and hugged me tightly, a smile on his lipsticked face.

"Ohhh, I am so sorry I could see you off this morning, sweetheart! It pains my soul just to know that you went to school without a kiss from your daddy!"

I smiled and hugged him back slightly, putting down my pencil and standing up, forcing him, in essence, to release his vice-like grip.

"It's really alright, dad," I said as I put up my school things. "There's no need to worry. Oh, gosh, it's eight o'clock already? I should start dinner."

Dad smiled as sat down at the low table. "It's quite alright, sweetie. I know how hard you work!"

"Yeah, and I know how hard _you _work, dad. You should be able to come home to a nice, warm meal."

I really did feel guilty about letting the time pass in front of me. Dad… well, he didn't have the easiest job in the world. It wasn't as if the job of being a tranny at a bar was hard, no, that was not it at all… but Dad was kind of sensitive to something he always liked to call 'conceptual poison'.

Picture this. You walk into a new workplace full of people; employees, managers, and customers, and it is your first day on the job. Now, imagine that the room was filled with a noxious gas, like the formaldehyde you smell in biology labs, or a strong scent of vinegar. Now, say you had asthma, and thus were sensitive to smells and chemicals of that type. That is kind of what Dad's situation is.

The formaldehyde would be equated to the 'conceptual poison', and my dad had _extremely_ bad 'asthma'. He refuses to find another job, even though the aura of being denied is floating around him like a deadly poison. I am not entirely sure what that says about him personally, but I do know that Dad is very sensitive and vulnerable to the pain associated when his magic is denied.

It is kind of funny, really. A conceptual denial such as 'unicorns don't exist' can hurt the unicorns physically, as well as conceptually. If somebody ardently believed that 'unicorns don't exist', then, for them, 'unicorns don't exist'. So, whenever that unicorn is in the presence of that person who does not believe in them, they feel pain because they might not even exist anymore, in that person's perspective.

It's weird comparing my dad to a unicorn, but that is basically what it is.

I made dinner without a hitch, and brought the soup to the table carefully, trying to ignore the slight burning sensation the bowl was causing my fingers to experience. I set a bowl of soup in front of Dad and he ruffled my hair.

"Thanks Haruhi. I don't know what I'd do without ya!" He smiled and began eating his soup.

I fished around in my bowl for all of the carrots, before ceasing to eat the soup, sighing slightly. The day had been rather stressful for me, and I would love to talk to Dad about it. The only problems about that were that he worked hard enough without needing to know my problems, and that… well, attaining an 80-grand debt during the first week of school was kind of embarrassing.

However, no matter what my conscious wanted to me to do, unfortunately, it was my dad who ended up making the decision for me.

"You look a little down. Did something happen at school today?"

I looked up to see Dad staring at me in concern. He had stopped eating, apparently having noticed the lack of movement on my part. I sighed inwardly. Dad was not even talking to me in that overly-sweet tone of his; this was perfectly serious. I knew he expected an answer from me, and a true one, at that.

Not that I regularly lied to my father, at least. But I did tend to hide my real feelings from him. It was an 'annoying habit' of mine that he did not much care for.

"Well… Dad, can I ask you a question?"

Dad blinked in surprise; and with plenty of justification, too. I rarely asked him serious questions.

"Of course, honey. What is it?"

"Over these last few days at school… I've gotten the feeling that I stand out. And not just because I'm a commoner and wear baggy clothes. I think… I stand out _because_ of the fact that I'm a Celestial and can do elemency. So… I was wondering if it was so weird that a commoner can be a Celestial in the first place. I mean… is it that uncommon? Is being a Celestial a matter of blood, like they think? Or is it something more?"

A long question, I must admit. However, that particular fact had been bugging me ever since I started to go to school at Ouran. I only just began noticing that none of my old friends in middle school and primary school were Celestials, and, to think of it, my parents were the only 'commoners' other than myself that I noticed were Celestials.

If it really is a matter of blood, of inheritance… I must really be a whacked-up case. My entire family, actually. Based off of my observations… that seemed to be the truth to me.

"Haruhi… I don't really know how to explain this… Oh, I've got it! Let's use a metaphor!"

My dad's eyes lit up and I smiled at his excitement.

If anybody were to peruse his compendium and countless grimoires, they would find that there is a metaphor, analogy or parable of some sort in practically every other paragraph. My dad loved those types of comparisons, and rarely would he answer a serious question without one. Because of this, my dad has an extensive knowledge of random trivia that he has piled up over the years to explain his thoughts better.

"Okay, Haruhi. Think about this. Did you know that there is at least one spider within ten meters from you at all times?"

I blinked. _Oh, by the Angel, why did he have to use that? _

I hated spiders.

With a fiery, burning passion. A fire that could make even the most powerful fire elemental cower before my malice for the awful arachnids.

"Now, now, Haruhi, I know you don't like them, hahaha. But think about this. Say you are sitting in the back seat of a theatre. There is probably at least one spider behind your seat, and probably more behind that wall. However, it would not scare you, would it, if you could not see them, and did not know they were there at all. Now, replace the 'spider' with the 'commoner Celestial'. And replace yourself with the 'elite Celestial', much like the ones you attend school with. Do you understand what I am saying?"

I did. I think. What Dad was saying, essentially, was that the wealthy Celestials that boasted about their extensive skill in the elemental arts… did not know that 'commoner' Celestials existed.

So… was Dad saying that there were more commoner Celestials than I thought there were?

Dad sensed my confusion and elaborated with a smile. "You see, Haruhi, I have had experience with the elite powers of our business world. And I know that they are very narrow-minded. It is like they do not have the ability to turn their heads behind them to see, nor do they possess peripheral vision. They do not recognise the existence of 'commoner', as you say, Celestials. And there is but one reason why."

"Why?"

"Elemency."

Dad raised an eyebrow at me as I pondered this fact. I appreciated that Dad knew me well enough that he would give me a chance to think about the information he had given me before going on and explicating. Dad never liked to just spoon-feed me information; he would always make me figure something out….

"I got it! It's kind of like what it was with Mom, right?"

As soon as I mentioned Mom, Dad's eyes lit up, and he knew that I knew the answer. Despite that, however, he continued, probably to make sure I understood the information.

"In the mind of an elite, Celestial equals elemency. However, your mother, Kotoko, proves that that is not necessarily the case. As you well know, she was a lawyer both in the human world, and for the Great Court of Heaven. Elemency, as coveted as it is at Ouran, is not a necessary skill to work in the Courts. And, for commoners, at least, there are only really two types of jobs open. There are human jobs that don't require elemency or any magic at all. In fact, if a Celestial grows up in a non-Celestial home and grows up to work for a human company, it's quite likely that the said Celestial may not even know his true nature."

That made sense. There were not many schools that taught elemency among the lower socioeconomic classes, which would contribute to the high ratio of elite against commoner elemency.

"The other type of job is a job that does not require elemency, but something else. That's what your mother did. These jobs are often associated with the Great Courts. And, to them, elemency is a useless skill. They don't need physical power. They need logical and conceptual power. And you know full well about that."

"Okay," I said, trying to grasp the theory as best I could. "So, the reason why it seems as though commoners cannot be Celestials is because wealthy people associate Celestials with elemency alone. No other factor is regarded?"

Dad smiled and nodded. "Well… the fact that we can make wings sprout out of our backs is a genetic factor, but it is not confined to blue-blood or anything else. It all depends on the family. For example, I'm the first Celestial in my family to have been born since five generations. Your mother's family, on the other hand, were _all_ Celestials- all Demon Celestials, at that. That family is very prominent in the Court of Hell, as I think you know."

"Wait. Don't wealthy Celestials know about the Courts? Why would they not have a presence there?"

Dad sighed. "Now that is kind of a difficult question. I'm not entirely sure of the answer. Perhaps us commoners have just been doing a great job of keeping the Courts under control? Or maybe it's something more than that. Does Ouran teach classes having to do with magic of any other kind than elemency?"

"Not that I've seen, yet."

"Hmm… perhaps it has to do with simple ignorance. The Courts don't have much to do with elemency, just the regulation of it. So it would make sense that the elite would not have much to do with it, since being a 'respectable' Celestial would mean you have a job pertaining to elemency (and business, likely), and not much else. Does that make sense?"

"I… suppose it does. It still is confusing, though. What about business leaders who are magic-users that came from an underprivileged background?"

"Hmm… maybe they forget about it. Or they never learned other magic in the first place."

Dad shrugged his shoulders. He thought for a moment and smiled at me again.

"Though, Haruhi, you should be happy. Imagine what this world would be like if the same people that controlled the corporate world controlled the Courts. Hoo-rah, that would be not be cute~ and perfect~."

I couldn't help but laugh at my dad's words as I cleaned up our dishes and took them into the kitchen, pondering over his words. It seemed to make sense, though I was still confused.

Why would middle/lower class magic-users be written completely out of the history books, like they were never there in the first place…?


End file.
